


Acts of Service

by carolyncaves



Series: Love Languages [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BrOT4, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, POV Ignis Scientia, Road trip cuteness, Sickfic, Subtext, badass Ignis, contemplation of death, it's all uphill from there, only thru chapter 2 tho, or rather allergy-fic, vignettes i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolyncaves/pseuds/carolyncaves
Summary: 3+1: Ignis takes care of his friends, both because it's his duty and because he enjoys caring for the people he cares for. And on rare occasion, when he needs them to, they take care of him in return.The tent flap moved behind him and Ignis turned. He expected to find Gladio, rising to train, or perhaps Prompto, preparing to take a morning run.It was Noct. His dark hair stuck up wildly from sleep. He squinted at the bright horizon. "Morning."





	1. Noctis

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of my series inspired loosely by the 5 Love Languages according to Gary Chapman. Because Acts of Service couldn't have been anyone but Ignis. Can be read independently, only one tiny reference to the previous part.
> 
> No beta, so I apologize in advance haha. This was supposed to be mostly sweetness, but the Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 openings are a little heavy. It's smooth sailing from there, though.

Ignis saw his own death printed on the front page of the paper.

The text actually read 'INSOMNIA FALLS', but the sight of it conjured a vision so vivid it made his entire body clench. Him, then Gladiolus. Then Noctis. His prince.

(Probably Prompto as well. Prompto was loyal, devoted to Noctis in much the same way as Ignis himself. But Ignis had to admit, upon later reflection, that he was not overly preoccupied with Prompto's fate in that first, disorienting moment.)

In fact, the sensation of despair, the certainty of his own doom, was so intense that when the concierge cleared his throat, Ignis - always carefully aware of his surroundings - was surprised to find himself standing in the lobby of the hotel at Galdin Quay. Surprised to find that the world did still, in fact, turn. At least there. At least for that moment.

People were staring at him. Did they know who he was, who was in his party? Were they even now selling their location to those who wished them harm? Were Magitek troopers preparing to storm down the pier in an inexorable tide to end their lives?

"Sir," the concierge said, "I realize it's a bit shocking, but if you don't mind ..."

Ignis was simply holding up the queue.

He stepped aside, moving away from the kiosk. The newspaper was still in his hands. He looked at it once more, as if he needed to be certain he had not in fact hallucinated the entire experience.

'INSOMNIA FALLS'

Ignis pulled his phone out of his pocket. He needed to confirm this report before bringing it to Noctis and the others. He had to be certain it was not a mistake or misinterpretation. He would never bring His Highness an uncertainty. Not one like this.

He had breaking notifications from several news services. He read the first article, then skimmed the rest. They bore the same ill news.

That was all. There were no missed calls, no text messages, no emails. That, more than anything, convinced Ignis it was true. If such a story had broken erroneously overnight, Ignis' phone would have been ringing off the hook. If these were the headlines, and Ignis had heard nothing in response, then clearly ... no one was able to respond.

They were on their own. It was a sudden, terrifying thought. There was no one to fall back on. No Crownsguard, no Glaive, no analysts or advisors. Just Ignis.

Ignis had a recurring nightmare in which he found himself walking in an endless pool. At first he would always feel calm, even as he moved into deeper and deeper water. Then, the bottom would drop abruptly away - and in that moment Ignis would remember he could not swim. He would be engulfed in desperate, drowning panic and awake shaking and gasping for breath.

Ignis felt that way now. Out of his depth.

It didn’t matter. He needed to alert the others. They needed to devise a plan. Ignis straightened his collar, ran his fingers along the sharp crease of the newspaper, and headed for the elevator.

\---------

Ignis loved the dawn. He couldn't be certain if he'd developed an appreciation for it as a result of his habitual schedule, or if he had gravitated toward that schedule because it afforded him the opportunity to watch the sun come up each day.

The sunrise that morning was particularly lovely, painting the desert orange and blue. Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto were still sleeping safely in the tent. Ignis had been up for hours, so he was taking a moment to rest. He sat in one of the camp chairs, sipped his warm coffee, and relaxed for what felt like the first time in a very long time - though in reality, it had only been about a week.

A long week.

The tent flap moved behind him and Ignis turned. He expected to find Gladio, rising to train, or perhaps Prompto, preparing to take a morning run.

It was Noct. His dark hair stuck up wildly from sleep. He squinted at the bright horizon. "Morning."

"Good morning."

Ignis briefly wondered if Noctis had been awakened by a bad dream. Generally Ignis was the only one of their group plagued by nightmares, but on several occasions since the disastrous treaty signing Noct had been seized by terrors in the dark hours of the morning. In this case, however, Ignis hadn't heard any disturbance coming from within the tent.

"Would you care for some coffee?"

Noctis wrinkled his nose. "Sure."

Ignis rose to prepare him a mug. Noct followed him over to the camp stove, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Ignis poured him a serving of coffee and stirred in Noct's preferred amount of sugar. He pressed the mug into Noctis' hands. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company _so early_ in the morning?"

Noctis yawned, as if the mere mention of the time had reminded him that he would much rather be asleep. "There's a pier near here. Thought I'd try to catch this one fish."

"I see."

Noctis eyed the sun moodily. "Guess I better step on it. Should've detangled my line last night." Noct's last fishing excursion had ended in a rare moment of frustration when a large specimen had stolen his lure mere inches from the pier.

"As luck would have it, I detangled the line several days ago."

"Huh?" Noct's eyes took on the softly unfocused look he wore when he was sorting through the armiger. "You ... cleaned my tackle and organized my lures, too?"

"Indeed."

Noctis didn't respond immediately, and it suddenly occurred to Ignis that he had never handled Noct's fishing equipment before. Fishing was Noct's beloved personal hobby, and Noctis had never asked Ignis to assist with it. Perhaps that was intentional.

"Highness, if I have overstepped a boundary ..."

"What? No." Noct's eyes snapped into focus, more alert than he had been at all during the conversation. "No way. I just. Thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Good luck on your excursion. Breakfast will be ready when you return."

At the mention of food, Noctis surveyed the cooking area. His eyes went a little wide when he noticed the mixing pitcher covered with aluminum foil. "You're making pancakes," he said.

"That is correct."

"And ..." Noctis reached past Ignis and grabbed a packet Ignis had attempted to conceal beneath a dish towel. "And we have chocolate chips." Noctis stared up at Ignis in open bewilderment.

Ignis suddenly felt embarrassed. Or, rather, exposed. "We do indeed."

Chocolate chip pancakes were one of Noct's favorites. They were also patently ridiculous. Ignis consistently maintained that chocolate had no place at the breakfast table. Not in muffins, not in pancakes, and certainly not in children's cereal. If breakfast was to be sweet, it must be sweetened with fruit - not sugar.

And yet.

And yet Ignis had acquired a packet of chocolate chips at Hammerhead and mixed up a batch of pancake batter that morning in order to make chocolate chip pancakes for Noctis. His prince. His … king, Ignis supposed.

That selfsame king was currently standing before Ignis, clutching that selfsame packet of chocolate chips limply in his hand, looking for all the world as if he were trying not to cry.

"Noct ..."

"Ignis," Noct interrupted. He seemed to struggle with something for a moment. Then he was wrapping one arm around Ignis' waist in a sort of half-hug.

Ignis returned the gesture, a rare sign of affection from his stoic king. He gently took the packet out of Noctis' hands. "You'd best be off or you'll miss your fish."

"Yeah," Noct said as he stepped back. He turned to go, then paused. "You know, you really don't have to help out with my fishing stuff. You do a lot already."

"I am aware," Ignis said wryly. "I’m also aware that fishing ... brings you joy. Consider this a one-time effort to bolster that emotion, when it is now regrettably in short supply.”

“Oh.” Noctis’ gaze roved across the pancake makings once more. “And here I thought you were finally coming around on all that health stuff. Should have known it was too good to be true.” Noct smiled at him, though, so Ignis understood he didn’t mean it harshly. "Thanks, Specs."

“You’re more than welcome.”

Ignis watched as Noctis made his way down off the haven and across the desert. He didn’t turn and top up his coffee until Noct disappeared from view.

(At the time, Ignis meant what he said. He had no intention of tidying Noct's fishing equipment on a regular basis. But then he did it once more, and once more after that, and he never quite managed to stop.)


	2. Gladiolus

Ignis enjoyed the unique, quiet energy of the streets of Lestallum in the morning. Workers headed toward the power plant in small groups, their protective clothing catching the morning sun in glints and gleams. Vendors were opening their stalls in the market. The food stand was doing a booming business, but it was primarily to-go orders, so Gladiolus had no trouble grabbing them a table.

Ignis sipped an Ebony, while Gladio had procured for himself an enormous iced tea. Tart flowers floated among the ice cubes, staining the liquid - and likely Gladio's tongue - bright pink. The plastic cup was already sweating in the morning heat, and Glaido set it in a puddle of condensation that had been steadily growing on the cheap plastic table over the past fifteen minutes.

"I could get used to this," Gladio said. "No whining, no groaning."

"Are you proposing we let His Highness sleep in to his heart's content every morning?"

Gladio snorted. "Not likely."

"I thought not. I have often speculated that if left to his own devices, Noctis would become nocturnal."

"He'd only wake up for an hour or two in the middle of the night. He'd be like a cryptid. Does he really exist? Who knows. Prompto could sell grainy photos of him on the internet to conspiracy sites."

Ignis smirked into his coffee. "Imagine the diplomatic visits. We'd have to instruct foreign heads of state to arrive at the meeting room at two in the morning."

"They'd be going around in circles with their staff trying to decide if Noct was just crazy or if it was some kind of power play. One brave ambassador would show up in their pajamas in defiance." Then the smile collapsed off Gladio's face. "Man. I wonder what state the diplomatic office is in. Is there even anyone left?"

Ignis resisted the urge to sigh. "I've made inquiries. Without much response. It's difficult for people to communicate these days, particularly if they're abroad."

"How in the hell would we even start rebuilding something like that? Reestablishing embassies in foreign capitals? We'd need new ambassadors, and they'd need new staff. And that's just the beginning."

"I have a few ideas. Rudimentary, of course. For when the time comes."

"Of course you do." Gladio relaxed back into his chair and flashed Ignis a wry smile. "Guess I should have figured."

In fact, Ignis had no ideas. He would now have to devise some, of course - he would never deceive Gladiolus. It was a worthwhile use of time, if it would ease Gladio’s mind.

In recent weeks Gladio had exhibited a growing preoccupation with a bright and distant future, one where the war was won and Noctis was king and Gladio and Ignis were tasked with rebuilding Noct's government.

Ignis knew they would never see such days.

They were hunted from all corners and at all hours, by Imperial dropships and increasingly monstrous daemons. Since the fall of Insomnia, Ignis had lived with the acute awareness that every hour might be their last. Ignis had seen the Imperial armada. Against it, it was ludicrous to think that the four of them and the tattered remains of the Crownsguard could prevail.

"Want another Ebony?" Gladio nudged him with his elbow. "You look like you could use it."

"Certainly." Ignis passed over his empty can.

The world was falling into darkness. Crystal or no crystal, Ignis didn’t see how they could stop it.

But Gladio did. Gladio had unfailing confidence in himself, in Noctis … and perhaps in Ignis as well.

For Gladio, Ignis would happily play along.

\---------

The hot dust of Hammerhead blew in Ignis' face as he crossed the darkened outpost. He had a bottle of Insomnian wine in one hand, something he'd managed to procure from Cid in exchange for a few anecdotes about the late King. On the surface, it seemed a small price to pay for such a rare commodity – but if the expression on Cid’s worn face was anything to go by, the trade was more than fair by a more subjective accounting.

Noctis and Prompto had scampered off into the back room of the garage with Cindy some time ago. Ignis believed they were going to watch her disassemble an engine or something equally intricate. Ignis was not entirely certain how long she would allow them to remain, but Hammerhead was rife with enriching diversions. He'd be surprised if they made more than a cursory appearance at the caravan before midnight, which meant that Ignis and Gladio would be left largely to their own devices - a rare treat.

Ignis tucked the bottle of wine inside the caravan door - he wasn't too worried about theft at Hammerhead, but there was no reason to tempt it - and started toward the restaurant. Gladio was chatting idly with the weapons dealer set up in the parking lot. He caught Ignis' eye and held up two fingers. He'd be along shortly, then.

Ignis got briefly distracted talking to Takka, and by the time he returned to the caravan, takeaway bag in hand, Gladio had found and opened the wine.

"Man, Iggy, where'd you get this?" Gladio pulled two glass cups down out of the caravan's cabinet. They were more suited to water or juice than wine, but Ignis was well accustomed to such informalities.

"Cid has quite the collection," Ignis explained as he unpacked their food. "I believe you're a fan of this vintage, are you not?"

"You know it." Gladio handed him a generous cup, from which Ignis took a generous sip. Gladio had excellent taste in wine. "You're a brave man, though, haggling with Cid."

"Hardly. His bark is worse than his bite." Ignis passed Gladio one of the styrofoam bowls he'd extracted from the bag. He picked up his own bowl, two forks, and his wine, and they made their way out into the dim fluorescent night. Ignis sat down on the second step of the caravan. Marginally less comfortable than a plastic chair, but it allowed him the best view of the stars.

"Guess you're happy to get a break from cooking," Gladio said. He hooked one of the chairs clustered under the awning with a finger and dragged it over to face Ignis.  "What's Takka whipped up tonight?"

"Unless I miss my mark, a truly visionary cacciatore."

"Really?" Gladio eased the lid off his bowl. "Damn, that looks good. I love cacciatore."

"I'm aware." Ignis deliberated. "It was I who requested that he include it on his menu this evening."

Gladio eyed Ignis suspiciously. "First the wine, now this. You calling in a bunch of favors for me?"

"You make it sound so dramatic." Ignis gathered some pasta on his fork. "Takka and I often swap information and ingredients. He was pleased to study my signature recipe."

They dug into their meal in earnest, then. It was heavenly, but Gladiolus kept shooting Ignis dangerously thoughtful looks. Ignis began to wonder if he'd revealed too much. He drained his glass and reached for the bottle of wine to refill it.

"You really are taking the night off, huh." When Ignis had finished pouring, Gladio plucked the bottle out of his fingers and topped up his own cup. "I guess I should go bed down the caravan before we get too boozed up."

"It's already taken care of," Ignis said. "Everyone's overnight bags are in from the car and the beds have been made up."

Gladio leaned back, the plastic chair shifting beneath his weight. He tapped the wine bottle against his calf. "You're always doing that," he said.

"Doing what?"

"Arranging things. Doing things when no one else is looking. Organizing the armiger. Tuning the car. Wine, cacciatore. Fishing rods."

Ignis wasn't sure why Gladio was frowning. "It's my job to do things."

"It's not all your job."

That was certainly true. Ignis had simply thought it went without saying. "The more things I can take care of, the fewer things the rest of you have to worry about."

"And I get that," Gladio said. "But, I mean ... You don't have to go out of your way for stuff like this. You've got enough on your plate. I don't care what they're serving for dinner at Hammerhead. I'm not that sensitive.

"You’re quite the opposite of sensitive,” Ignis said wryly, “but … Gladiolus. You're my oldest friend. If, by wrangling a few minor details, I can arrange for you a seamlessly pleasant evening ... well, it’s my prerogative to do so if I please." Ignis stopped, then, and put his cup to his lips before he said anything too outrageously sentimental.

"That it absolutely is." Gladio fixed him with a sort of bemused smile. "Well, I'm not complaining. Just make sure you're not doing too much. You’re allowed to take a break every once and a while."

"As if I could. The three of you don't even have the ability to feed yourselves." As the words left his mouth, Ignis realized he'd walked into a trap. He could see a sort of feverish light take hold in Gladio's eyes. "Gladiolus, if you say the words 'Cup Noodles' to me, you will regret it."

Gladio wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "Is that a promise?"

Ignis huffed. He cast his eyes across the tranquil outpost. "Hardly. We have neither the time nor the privacy for me to make you suffer appropriately."

"Rain check, then." Gladio reached across the small gap between them and poured a bit more wine into Ignis' cup. "Good call on this stuff, by the way. Definitely worth whatever you had to do to get it."

"Indeed. The wine and the company were well worth the effort."

Gladio nudged his glass affectionately against Ignis' knee. Then he showed his teeth. "I see. So this whole thing was actually for your benefit. You just wanted the pleasure of hanging out with _me_ all night."

Ignis let out a laugh. “You’ve seen right through me."

Gladio rose, set his empty bowl and the half-full bottle of wine on the ground, and loomed over Ignis. "Shove over."

"We can't both fit on this step."

"Sure we can."

"You're being ridiculous."

"It's either that or you sit on my lap," Gladio said. "I don't make the rules."

They did, it turned out, both fit on the steps - but only if Ignis sat on the stair above Gladio. His left thigh was pressed against the metal frame of the caravan door to accommodate Gladio's broad body, but his right hand was resting on the crook of Gladio's neck, so the arrangement wasn't entirely undesirable.

Two hours later, the bottle of wine was empty and Ignis was leaning drowsily on Gladio's shoulder. And despite the 'one big per bed' rule Prompto had graciously devised, Ignis and Gladio climbed into the fixed bed at the back of the caravan together shortly thereafter.

"To make it easier for Noctis and Prompto to come in quietly whenever they see fit to get some sleep," Ignis reasoned.

Gladio snorted. "Yeah, right."

Ignis drifted off with his back against Gladio’s and slept peacefully through the night – a rare treat indeed.

(At first, Ignis assumed it was a combination of the wine and that solid, steady weight beside him that kept his nightmares at bay. Through experimentation, he determined it was exclusively the latter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was just friendly banter. I swear. No, really. (#plausibledeniability)


	3. Prompto

Prompto's smile was one of the purest things left in Ignis' life.

So Ignis tried not to feel too put-upon as he once again gathered Prompto's scattered possessions - even though Prompto was an adult and had two fully-functional opposable thumbs - and packed them into his suitcase for him.

Prompto had dragged Noctis from the caravan, carrying on about something to do with the chocobos' morning calisthenics - and yes, Prompto's boundless enthusiasm for the birds was charming, so Ignis didn't begrudge him the excursion - leaving Ignis to make sure both Noct _and_ Prompto were packed to leave on schedule. They had a long drive ahead of them and couldn't afford a delayed departure.

"You shouldn't coddle him," Gladio said from across the caravan. He was sharpening his greatsword - a task poorly suited to the backseat of the Regalia. "If you keep letting him get away with it, he'll never learn."

"You're one to talk." Ignis saw how Gladio treated Prompto. "Always buying him things, food and drinks and ridiculous trinkets. It's like a stray cat. If you feed it, it will only linger."

"Well, I definitely want him to keep sticking around."

"Likewise," Ignis said patiently. He stopped what he was doing and waited for Gladio to meet his gaze.

Gladio gave Ignis a rueful smile. "He's a ray of fucking sunshine."

"I know."

As if to drive home the point, Prompto burst into the caravan at that moment, a significantly drowsier Noctis following in his wake. "I know, I know, we have to go. Just let me ..." Prompto lurched to a stop at the sight of his packed bag in Ignis' hand. "Woah. Thanks, Iggy. Sorry to …"

"Think nothing of it. I hope you enjoyed your chocobos."

"Oh, we did." Prompto _beamed_ at Ignis, and some of the weight lifted from Ignis’ heart.

\---------

"Oh, shit!" Prompto said from the other room.

The well-worn response 'language' was on the tip of Ignis' tongue, but Prompto sounded so genuinely alarmed that he instead lowered his comb and peered around the door jamb of the hotel bathroom.

Prompto was frantically pulling every article of clothing he owned - many of which Ignis had folded just the night before - out of his suitcase. "Oh, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"What's the matter?"

Prompto started. His eyes were saucer-round. "Uh. Um. Maybe nothing, let me just ..." He started furiously patting down his rumpled belongings.

"What are you looking for, Prompto?" Ignis waited three seconds for a response. Then he put on his in-charge voice. "Tell me."

Prompto deflated, and Ignis felt immediately apologetic. Still, if there was a serious problem, Ignis needed to know about it.

"It's the spare key to the Regalia. Noct lent it to me last night, I left my phone in the car so I had to go back out to get it. I put the key in my back pocket, and I guess I forgot to give it back to him, and then I did laundry last night, and now ... I can't find it." That last came out as barely more a whisper. Clearly distraught, Prompto resumed pawing through his things.

"Well, before we get worked up, make certain it isn't in your bag." Ignis kept his face carefully impassive. If the spare key were truly lost, that might qualify as a minor emergency ... and Ignis was regrettably willing to believe it was.

The night before, Prompto had abandoned his dry clothes on the bed in a wrinkle-inducing heap in favor of taking a shower, so Ignis had folded them himself. If there had been a key in one of Prompto's pockets ... Ignis hadn't noticed it.

"It's totally not here," Prompto lamented. "I am the actual worst. I mean, what if someone steals the Regalia? Or we lock ourselves out of the car in the middle of nowhere and die? Or you fall down a well and we can't go for help?"

Prompto's first concern was the most pressing. Ignis crossed the hotel room in three long strides and twitched the curtain aside. The Regalia was still parked in its space. Ignis allowed himself to exhale. As for the rest ... they would simply have to recover the key.

Prompto was still on his knees amidst the scattered collection of his worldly possessions. "I cannot believe this. Gladio is gonna kill me. I'm supposed to be a member of the freaking Crownsguard, but it turns out I can't be trusted with literally anything. And Noct ... I lost the _key_ to his _dad's car_ ..."

Ignis wielded his in-charge voice once more. "Prompto." Prompto's mouth snapped shut. "It will be all right. I'll handle it."

"But ..."

"Come along." Ignis was through the door and into the bright heat of Longwythe before Prompto managed to scramble to his feet, but Prompto caught up quickly. "If it fell out in the wash, perhaps it's already been recovered by the hotel staff."

"Yeah," Prompto said. "Iggy, seriously, I'm _so_ sorry, I ..."

"Don't worry about that for now. Let's focus on finding the key."

Prompto's gaze slid to the ground. "Right."

That wouldn’t do at all, but Ignis would have to deal with Prompto once their more urgent problem had been resolved.

The manager sat behind the front desk, fanning himself with the guest register. "Yeah, the overnight girl said she found it in the bottom of the dryer."

"Phew." Prompto collapsed against the counter in relief.

"Splendid," Ignis said. "May we have it?"

"Your friends already grabbed it. 'Bout ten minutes ago."

Ignis frowned. "Our friends?" Noctis and Gladio had ostensibly gone to the local Crow's Nest to gather information on potential hunts, which meant they were almost certainly wasting their hard-earned gil on arcade games instead. Ignis had written them off for at least another forty-five minutes.

"Yeah, three boys staying in room 112. Grabbed it when they checked out."

Prompto groaned.

Ignis could relate. "How did these people know you had our key?"

"Set it out on the counter. Didn't know what you folks looked like, you checked in so late. Figured you wouldn't miss it that way."

Ignis could barely wrap his mind around such a glaring gap in logic. Did this man have no conception of appropriate internal controls? "They lied. They are not our associates. Do you know where we can find them?"

"'Fraid I ... actually, that's them there," the manager said, gesturing over Ignis' shoulder with the register.

Ignis and Prompto turned in concert. Three young men - possibly younger than Noct and Prompto, though not by much - had emerged from the convenience mart. At first glance, Ignis took them for hunters. But they carried no obvious weapons and their clothing was distressed for fashion, not through function. Hooligans, more likely. They laughed among themselves as they strolled across the street.

They were headed for the Regalia.

Ignis abandoned the counter without another word and strode across the parking lot to intercept them. Prompto was hot on his heels.

"Iggy, what are you ..."

"Let me handle the talking," Ignis said. "Do try to look as intimidating as possible." Prompto was the most radiant person Ignis had ever known, but he was truly lethal in a fight. Hopefully he could act like it, if only briefly.

Prompto swallowed loudly. "Right."

The hooligans had reached the car. One, who had a tattoo of a bat on his collarbone, had drawn the key in question out of his pocket.

"Stop right there," Ignis said in his back-off voice. It was two steps above his in-charge voice, and he'd rarely had cause to exercise it anywhere but in front of his bathroom mirror. But situations like this were why it paid dividends to be prepared.

All three of them looked at him in shock. One, the tallest, retreated a step, his hands half-up in surrender. The one with the bat tattoo recovered himself the fastest. "You got a problem?"

Ignis stopped a few paces from the young men. "This is my car, and that is my key."

The tall one exchanged a worried look with his other friend. The tattooed one ignored them. "I don't see your name on it."

"Dude," the tall one whispered, "maybe we should ..."

"Shut up." Bat-tat crossed his arms. "Look, there's three of us. What are you going to do?"

Ignis couldn't imagine this young man's gall. He allowed himself a glance at Prompto ... whose delicate face was pinched into the meanest scowl Ignis had ever seen. Excellent.

Ignis could draw a weapon from the armiger, but it was possible these men were carrying pocket knives. Ignis had no desire to actually take three lives over the car. Not if he could avoid it.

Instead he took three slow steps forward and stared down at the instigator. "What I am going to do is beat you unconscious."

Bat-tat seemed frozen with fear. His taller, wiser friend grabbed his arm. "Shit, dude, just give it to him."

There was a clink as the key fell to the asphalt, and then the three ne’er-do-wells were sprinting back across the street. Ignis bent down and picked up the erstwhile key. The would-be-thieves disappeared behind the Crow's Nest.

"There you are," Ignis said, offering the key to Prompto. "Handled."

"Holy shit, Iggy." Prompto took the key as if it might crumble to dust in his hands if he weren’t careful. "You were _terrifying_."

"You looked quite ferocious yourself," Ignis said. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah, you could have," Prompto said placidly. He worried the key with both hands. "Ignis, you seriously saved my butt on this. I don't know how I can thank you enough."

"There's no need to thank me. Just try to be more careful in the future."

"Yeah." Prompto's shoulders sagged. "Sorry to cause trouble for you. I'll ..."

"Prompto," Ignis said, in an entirely unrehearsed voice, "don’t be so hard on yourself. For you, it’s no trouble. Surely you've seen me wash enough dishes to realize that cleaning up other people’s messes is my specialty."

That made Prompto laugh, the guilt falling from his face like a shroud from a chandelier. "That's true, I guess."

"It is indeed. Now why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can't get this incompetent heathen to refund our room fee for our trouble."

(They could.)


	4. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got punched in the face by spring two weeks ago and now I'm taking it out on Ignis.

When Ignis woke up that morning, there was an uncomfortable pressure behind his nose. He ignored it.

Instead, he did what he usually did - got up, made coffee and breakfast, and reviewed their itinerary for the day. They had camped late the night before after completing several hunts, so the first order of business was to travel back to Taelpar to collect their rewards. Simple enough. Where they went from there would be up to Noctis.

Once the others were up, Ignis began packing down the camp. He had to stop periodically to rub his eyes, which were beginning to feel a little puffy, and that must have slowed him down. He was barely finished with the sleeping bags when Gladio started taking apart the tent.

"You okay there, Ignis?" Gladio asked.

"Quite fine. Just an eyelash in my eye, I believe. I'll see to the cooking equipment."

Gladio's scar shifted as he frowned. "Why don't you let Prompto handle that? Maybe go sit down for a minute?"

Perhaps that was when Ignis admitted to himself that something was genuinely wrong. Because instead of objecting, as he generally would, he simply complied.

Fifteen minutes later, the others had finished packing the car and a sharp, insistent itch had taken up residence in Ignis' left sinus. Ignis rubbed his face hard. It didn't help.

Still, Ignis rose to his feet. "Are we ready to depart?"

Prompto hovered at his elbow, his mouth turned down in an uncharacteristic frown. "Maybe Noct should drive for a change."

"Nonsense," Ignis said, pressing his knuckle to the side his nose. "Taelpar is only a short drive from here. I may be feeling a bit under the weather, but I'm certainly capable of getting us there in one piece."

"Oh, uh, sure. I mean, I didn't mean ... if you say so, Iggy."

When they approached the car, key out in Ignis' hand, Noct stared at him hard and Gladio pressed his lips together like he wanted to say something. But they allowed him to take the wheel unchallenged.

Barely ten minutes later, Ignis began sneezing and had to pull over to avoid wrecking the car. Prompto sheepishly passed him a tissue from the glove box. Ignis sneezed, and blew his nose, and sneezed again, and rubbed his face furiously in an attempt to relieve the burning itch. It was getting worse.

"I'll drive," Noct said. He climbed out of the car and opened Ignis' door. "C'mon, Specs. You're distracted."

Noctis was right, of course. Ignis was in no condition to be responsible for his friends’ lives. Ignis levered himself out of the driver's seat in defeat and took Noct's habitual seat in the back.

"Must be allergy season," Gladio said as Noct pulled back onto the highway. "Don't worry, we'll get you some medicine when we get to Taelpar."

Ignis pressed his fingers against the corners of his eyes. It was an hour to Taelpar, and it would be several more before any medication Ignis took now would relieve his symptoms. "I should have started an antihistamine a week ago to prevent this from happening. I hadn't at all realized it was that time of year. How careless of me." He would likely be useless for the majority of the day.

"Don't be like that," Noctis said. "Just close your eyes and rest."

Prompto twisted around in his seat. "Seriously, we've all got a lot on our minds, you know? You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it."

"Yeah, the pollen's got that covered," Gladio jibed.

None of that really made Ignis feel better - physically or psychologically - but there was nothing to be done. Ignis tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on anything but the growing pain behind his face.

By the time they reached Taelpar, Ignis felt like his sinuses were on fire. The persistent itch was driving him half-mad, but sneezing was excruciating - and it didn't help, regardless. When Noctis opened his door in the hotel parking lot, several crumpled tissues fell out onto the pavement.

"Gross," Noct said, but he held out his hand. Ignis let Noctis help him up. His eyes were swollen and his head felt cottony and everything was filtered through the haze of his burning nose, but he followed Noctis and Gladio up the stairs to their room. It didn't even occur to him until they reached the door that it was barely eleven in the morning.

"We don't have to stop so soon," Ignis said. His voice came out low and gravelly. "The medicine will take effect just as quickly here or in the back seat of the Regalia."

"We're definitely stopping," Noctis said.

"Seriously. I saw you in the car. It hurts just looking at you. You'll be more comfortable in a bed, indoors. Away from the pollen." Gladio propelled Ignis into the room.

"Wait just a moment, please. Perhaps the proprietor will give us a refund. I hate to waste a day or the gil ..."

"Ignis," Noct said, in a commanding voice Ignis didn't hear from him often. "You're not a waste of anything. We're definitely stopping."

Weakened by his own immune system, stunned by Noctis' assertiveness - and frankly touched by everyone's concern - Ignis couldn’t resist any longer. Gladio pressed down on his shoulders, and Ignis obediently sat down on the edge of the bed. Gladio undid his top buttons, loosened his cuffs, and removed his belt, while Ignis just sat there and let him. It was a little strange, but also ... relaxing. Gladio bent down to unlace his shoes. Ignis held his arms limply against his chest, not unlike an ancient mummy, and focused on not sneezing.

The door to their room opened. Prompto entered carrying a plastic bag from the convenience mart. "I got their most juiced-up allergy medicine, fancy lotion tissues, and some cans of noodle soup."

"Noodle soup?" Noct scoffed. "He doesn't have a cold, Prompto."

"Yeah, but he's still, like, leaking. He needs fluids."

"It all sounds wonderful," Ignis said. "Thank you, Prompto."

"Sure thing, my dude."

Gladio stood up and carefully removed Ignis' glasses. "You look fucking terrible. Do you want a cool compress or a warm one?"

"Cool." Nothing had ever sounded better to him than a cool compress did at that moment. Since the world now looked as blurry as Ignis felt, he closed his eyes. The darkness was an instantaneous relief.

"Noct, will you-"

"On it." There were sounds of activity from the bathroom.

"Here's your medicine," Prompto said.

Ignis opened his eyes to take the pill from Prompto and swallow it. Even the gentle light in the room reawakened the searing itch in his left sinus. The urge to sneeze intensified. Ignis closed his eyes once more, willing it to dissipate. He'd sneezed enough already.

"Okay, time to lie down," Gladio said.

Frankly, Ignis agreed with him. He allowed Gladio to press him back onto the mattress.

"One cold compress," Noctis announced from close beside him.

The bed shifted, and Ignis opened one eye just in time to catch a glimpse of Noct kneeling over him, an amused smirk on his face. Then a cool, damp washcloth was laid across his eyes, followed by a brief, gentle pressure.

"Mmmmmm," was all Ignis could manage. The very last thread of energy left Ignis' body. He simply lay there and existed.

"Good," Noctis replied. The bed moved again, and then Noctis was pressing his back up against Ignis' side. "Hey, Prompto - King's Knight?"

"You know it." The bed jostled more violently, which prompted a hushed exchange - 'Hey!' 'Sorry.' - and then Prompto's head came to rest on Ignis' chest. "This good?" Prompto asked, and a gentle nudge against his side let Ignis know he was speaking to him.

"Quite," Ignis replied. His right hand found Noct's head, his fingers twining through a strand of hair. The knuckles of his left hand rested against Prompto's back. Two of his charges were beside him, safe and content, and the third ... there was a loud clatter from the kitchenette.

"Fuck," Gladio muttered.

"Gladio's heating you up some soup," Prompto said. "Obviously it won't be as good as you would make, it's just out of a can, but I figured you'd be better off if you didn't have to eat whatever we'd’ve come up with if we actually tried to cook."

"I told you to get Cup Noodles," Gladio said. "No pan required."

"Yeah, and I told him to ignore you," Noct said. "You can't feed Specs Cup Noodles just because he's incapacitated. That's cruel."

Prompto laughed his blessed laugh. "Talk about kicking a man while he's down."

"Yeah, yeah," Gladio said. Ignis heard the sound of a metal spoon ruining his sauce pot as Gladio used it to stir, but he couldn't even bring himself to mind.

(Two hours later, once he could open his eyes without reigniting the burning itch inside his nose, Ignis half-heartedly suggested they could press on. He was immediately, unanimously overruled. Filled with profound gratitude, Ignis allowed himself to be blanketed in his friends’ care and regard.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Any and all feedback welcome :)
> 
> Feel free to come find me on tumblr [@carolyncaves](https://carolyncaves.tumblr.com/).


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